Poppy tried to stay awake while she was waiting, but her eyelids drooped, and eventually, she just succumbed to sleep, her body curling instinctually. Her brown locks contrasted with the white of the pillow and her closed fist rested just beneath her chin. Her breathing slowed, and her expression relaxed.
Once Francis left the bathroom, he was a bit surprised to find her asleep. Though, his gaze towards her was affectionate and enamored. He slid into bed next to, wrapping his arms around her comfortably, the action felt so normal, yet it made his heart race every time.
She murmured, and instinctively relaxed into his chest, her hands wrapping around his. They gradually fell asleep together, their breaths becoming slow and easy. (TIME SKIP) The next morning, Poppy woke up blearily, her grey eyes moving to search the room around her. She looked down and realized that she had fallen asleep in her clothes, and she shifted slightly, her limbs stiff from sleep.
Francis still held her hands, but his grip loosened at she moved. His brows were furrowed, like his rest had been uneasy, but still made no unusual sounds or movements.
She turned to look at him, and she studied the face that she had come to know so well. She kissed his cheek lightly, trying not to disturb him. "Francis," she whispered. "I'm going to go change, okay?" She wiggled out of his arms. "I love you."
His nose scrunched as she kissed his cheek, but relaxed right after. He wasn't completely awake, but mumbled a few words in his doze. "Nyeh.. Love.. you," he mumbled sleepily, trailing off.
Poppy exited the room, closing the door behind her with a small click, and shaking her head with a smile on her face. She paused when her name was called down the hallway, and she turned to look. "Oh, hey Evan," she said uncertainly as he approached. Evan's expression looked clearly uncomfortable, and he looked up and down the hallway nervously. "Poppy, listen," he said urgently. "I'm totally okay with you dating someone else, right? I've gotten over that. But you have to listen to me. Francis is cheating on you." Poppy felt her heart skip a beat, but she laughed it off, rolling her eyes. "C'mon, Evan," she said, cocking her head. "You're better than this." "No, I'm serious," he responded, reaching into his pocket for some folded papers. "Really early this morning - like one or two o'clock or something - I was coming back to my room, and I saw this." He passed her the photos, and Poppy inhaled sharply. The photos depicted two people locked in a passionate embrace, kissing deeply. His hands were in her hair, and she was resting her arms around his neck. They were leaning on the wall right outside Francis' room, and they were distinctly Vivienne and Francis. Poppy was completely silent as she flipped through the pictures, her heart pounding in her chest. "I'm so sorry, Poppy," Evan said quietly. "It's not about me anymore. I just feel like you deserve better." Poppy opened her mouth to speak, but she found that she couldn't talk. She cleared her throat and shook her head. "I think you should go now," she said eventually, her voice deadly quiet. Evan hesitated before backing away. "Okay. Okay. I'm sorry. You'll know where to find me, okay? If you need me." Evan turned on his heel, and ran off, rounding the corner before he disappeared, leaving Poppy standing alone in the hallway.
Soon after Evan left, there was some shuffling coming from Francis' room, then the bed creaking as it signaled he had gotten up. It was quiet for a moment, then there were steps approaching the door, before it clicked open. Upon his sight of Poppy, his mood became instantly happier. "Oh, you're still out here. Did you tell me something before you left? I can't recall..."
Poppy was quiet, her eyes searching his face for some explanation. They couldn't seem to find anything, though so they just stared at him coldly, and her expression was a mixture between anger, disgust, and despair. She clutched the photos to her chest, and she tried to ignore the sick feeling that was spreading through her body.
He took a step towards her, concerned as to what brought this on. He didn't remember doing anything bad. "Poppy, are you okay?"
"Don't touch me right now, Francis," she said, stepping away from him, like a wounded animal backing away from the killing blow. "I swear to God. Don't touch me."
He pulled away, suddenly feeling a lot smaller then before. A look of hurt and confusion shrouded his expression. "What? Why? What happened? Are you okay?" he kept asking, still worried for her.
"What is this?" she asked, pulling the photos away from her person, and looking at them again for a moment before turning them to show him. "What the hell is this?"
He looked at the photos intently, before turning his eyes to meet her. "What are those? Where are those from? I don't remember that ever happening."
Her lower lip trembled, and she took a deep breath as if to steady herself. Her eyes reflected her feelings of betrayal and she looked at him as if she didn't even know him. "You can't tell me the truth about this?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Francis, there is obviously something going on here." She pointed to the pictures and tried to breathe. "You should at least have the common decency to tell me the god damn truth. You promised me. You promised me."
"I kept that promise, Poppy," he said, his voice deathly low. "I have no idea how or why those pictures exist, because that right-" he paused, pointing a tense finger on it, "I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that to you."
She inhaled sharply, looking as if he had punched her in the stomach. Her skin was pale, and her jaw was tight with anger. Her hands were in tight fists by her side, and she squeezed them so hard that her knuckles turned white. When she met his gaze, however, her eyes had very little fight left in them. "I can't believe," she muttered, her voice shaking, "that I was such a fool." She shook her head and moved to unlock her door. "I can't believe that I ever thought you meant what you said." She forced the door open, stepped through, and turned to look back at him. "I can't believe I ever thought that you loved me." Her voice cracked on the word 'loved' and she shut her eyes on the sudden influx of tears, scrubbing away at the few that managed to escape angrily.
He felt his stomach drop, and his heart skip a beat. Her words made him feel like he had just been in a wreck, and his voice was so ragged that he couldn't speak. "Poppy... How could you say that?" he asked, his hands trembling as he stood in front of her room. "I do love you. I do. Why would you ever doubt otherwise? Those pictures... They never happened. It never happened. Please, just listen to me. God... Please..."
Her eyelids flew open, revealing her startling grey eyes, now only holding despair and unfamiliarity where they had once held such warmth and love. The tears spilled over her cheeks as her gaze met his desperately, hoping for something, anything. However, when she glanced down at the pictures, her resolve only hardened, and she shook her head. "Nevermind. It's over. It's done." She slammed the door shut between them, and the silence that followed was deafening.
He stood. Hopeless. Silent. How could this end so quickly and so terribly. His expression was one of shock, and complete abandonment. He leaned his head against her door, his own emotions confused him. His eyes started to tear up, and he felt anger, and yet he was silent. He didn't know what to do, or say, or if he even could. His voice was so small and shaky, but he didn't care. "Poppy... Please just listen to me.. Dammit. Just.. Please help me with this."
